Starfox: Progenesis
by Inquirius
Summary: As an adult, Marcus is limping through life, struggling to make a name for himself. What will it take for him to succeed? A follow up to, "A Quest For Meaning".
1. Bendy

CHAPTER 1: _**B E N **DY_

* * *

The dark void of space stretched out into infinity, dotted with so many diamonds of stars. It resembled nothing less than a luxuriant tapestry assembled long ago by a greater being. Yet, it held little majesty for Marcus. There was no joy in it- no wonder; there was simply space. Mundane, monotonous, forever unchanging, cold and empty, it's icy countenance left Marcus yearning for the days of his youth, when stories of his father's voyages had thrilled him and filled his imagination. He sighed and backed away from the controls, allowing the ship's autopilot to take over. He heaved himself from the pilot's chair and made his way toward the rear of the ship. The door slid open and closed soundlessly as he moved.

He sat tenderly on the bed, cradling his head in his hands, his mind clattering like a runaway train on twisted tracks. He gingerly moved one of his hands to his face, taking in the shape. The slender nose, the thin lips, and the plate which housed his prosthetic eye. He cringed as his fingers made contact with the metal, a permanent reminder of the unfairness of existence. It would have been one thing if he had lost his eye in the line of duty. No, he had lost it in an accident. He sighed again, letting the sound of his breath fill the room. He should consider himself lucky. He had only lost an eye, his friend had lost his life.

* * *

Marcus couldn't remember going to sleep, he could only remember the screeching alarm pulling him from his slumber. _What the- _he thought, cut off by an explosion that rattled the ship. He toppled forward before catching himself on a nearby shelf. "Sh*t, sh*t, sh*t, sh*t, sh*t." The expletives flew through gritted teeth as he rushed back to the cockpit. Seizing the controls, he worked to ascertain the source of the alarm. The ship rocked again as lasers rammed into the shielding. The mystery of the alarm solved, Marcus pulled into a somersault and put himself in position behind his assailant. He quickly locked onto them and opened a patch to their vessel.

"Attention, this is Marcus McCloud of Starfox, further attacks on my ship will be met with hostility." His voice had come out hoarse, cragged from lack of use. He remained locked on the enemy ship and waited for an acknowledgement of his warning. Just as he reached the end of his patients, a static came over his speakers, accompanied by a feminine chuckle.

"Hiya," said the voice, coyly. "How's daddy?" Marcus grunted, but did not immediately respond. He wouldn't take the bait. "You there, kiddo?" the voice inquired.

Marcus had reached the end of his rope. Maintaining his silence, he accelerated, getting as close to the enemy combatant as possible. He released his grip on the trigger and the laser made a beeline for the rear of the ship in front of him. "Don't call me, 'kiddo'," he growled. He watched as the shot made contact and spat out a dazzling explosion.

"You bastard!" cried his speakers. He simply smirked, pleased with himself.

"That's what you get for being belligerent," Marcus replied. The voice continued as if Marcus had said nothing.

"My fuselage! You d*ck! I swear to God," Marcus began to laugh, cutting off the complaints. This time, the voice heard him.

"You think it's so funny? Well guess what, you're going down, too." Marcus' laughing stopped as the ship in front of him pulled into a dazzling dive before disappearing underneath the viewfinder. Marcus remained tense, scanning the space around him for the wounded craft. Suddenly, his whole ship lurched violently and began to stall. His onboard computer alerted him to the fact that a foreign object was now lodged firmly in the primary fuel line.

"What the hell?" asked Marcus.

"I told you," sneered the voice, no longer coy. "You're going down, too." Suddenly, his entire ship jerked backwards, and both crafts began to fall. The last thing Marcus remembered was white planet below getting bigger and bigger.

* * *

_Author's Note:_

Amazing how a couple weeks turns into a year! Sorry about the wait!

-**_][_**


	2. Pray For Rain

CHAPTER 2: _**P R A Y** FOR RAIN_

* * *

The first smell to draw Marcus back to reality was one he knew all too well. A thin, cuprous scent which crept insidiously into his nostrils, causing his nose to twinge, paired with a thick chemical odor that made him nauseous. Blood and fuel. The smells brought him back to the long-ago accident which had robbed him of his eye. His heart immediately started racing in his chest as adrenaline shot through him and he tried to lift himself. As his arms moved, pain shot through his chest, causing him to spasm uncontrollably. He moaned loudly into the darkness. He was too tired to think clearly and too weak and hurt to move. He moaned again. Out of the darkness came another sound. A voice. "Shhh," it cooed. "Everything will be okay." He felt a hand running gently down the back of his head repeatedly and a sharp pain in his arm. Suddenly, his pain melted away, and Marcus found himself once again drifting into the darkness.

The second smell to pull Marcus from his unconsciousness was the smell of coffee. The familiar pungent odor filled Marcus' head with only one thought. _Thirsty. _He tried again to lift himself, finding that he had been moved from the hard floor of his ship to a soft bed. The effort to move pained him severely, but he was able to push his legs off the edge of the bed and shift his weight upright. The motion made him dizzy. Marcus began to stand up, uneasy and off-balance because of his condition. Pain racked his body. He stumbled forward, following his nose to the coffeepot. When he finally reached it, he groped for it blindly before lifting it and emptying the contents into his mouth. The flavor coated his tongue, but his focus was on letting the liquid soothe his dry throat. Cautiously, he peeled his eyes open, the light temporarily blinding him. As he adjusted, he examined his surroundings. He was no longer inside of his ship, but his brief analysis told him that he was still inside some kind of space vessel. Before he could look around further, a sound alerted him to the presence of someone or something else.

Straining his ears, Marcus made out the repetitive stomp of footsteps approaching his location. He gripped the handle on the empty coffee pot tightly and glared menacingly at the door, waiting for whoever had brought him here. His heart, already pounding against his ribs, sped up as the door began to open. A figure came through, and Marcus instinctively primed himself to hurl the coffee pot at them. Marcus' looming presence was immediately noticed, however, and his captive put up their hands as a gesture of peace.

"Woah, woah, woah," said the person. "Why don't we just calm down for a second?" Without thinking, Marcus loosened his grip and let his arm fall to his side, his visage quickly losing it's menacing air. The voice rang a bell somewhere in Marcus' head. _Where have I heard that voice before?_ "Now, isn't that better?" asked the figure. It didn't take Marcus another second before he remembered. His arm came up again, and his face twisted into a mess of bared fangs.

"YOU!" he shouted. "YOU'RE the one who shot me down! What am I doing onboard this ship? What the HELL is going on?" The figure paused and observed Marcus for a second, it's hands moving from it's hips to the helmet on it's head.

"Relax, pretty-boy" chided the figure. The helmet came up, revealing a long silvery mane and piercing blue eyes. For the second time, Marcus dropped all hints of menace, this time fully dropping the coffee pot on the ground. The plastic pot loudly bounced away, but Marcus was too engaged in staring at the stranger before him to notice. Suddenly, he felt reality begin to shimmer all around him.

"Hey," said the woman in front of him. "Are you okay?" Her voice was streaked with concern, but Marcus was unable to focus on what she was saying. He was too busy staring at her eyes. Out of nowhere, her eyes disappear from his sight and the ground came running at him. He smashed into it, the pain flooding his face. He rolled himself over as aches rippled over his person. He looked up, and his eyes once again came to meet those beautiful cerulean orbs.

"Hey," whispered Marcus. "You're beautiful." With that, Marcus drifted off to sleep on the floor of a strange ship.

* * *

Marcus woke up in a bed again and yawned deeply. His chest still ached, but it did not spasm uncontrollably as it had before. He opened his eyes gradually, still finding himself sensitive to it's rays. He consciously swiveled his prosthetic eye to make sure it was still functioning at full capacity. Finally, he sat up in the bed. It was only then that he noticed the figure next to him, the same wolf from before, only instead of a flight suit, she was wearing a tee shirt and flannel pants. He examined her, allow his gaze to sweep over her entire figure. Even with her eyes closed, she was beautiful. Without thinking, Marcus lifted his hand to her hair and began slowly petting her head, letting the silver locks run through his fingers. Suddenly, one of her eyes fluttered open, it's brilliant blue tone hypnotizing Marcus.

"Well," she sighed. "This is an interesting way to wake up. Wouldn't you like to know who I am or where you are before you go about feeling me up?" Marcus cringed with embarrassment and drew his hand away quickly, setting it down upon his knee. The she-wolf laughed and pulled herself away from the mattress before sitting down on the bed next to Marcus.

"We're on Fichina. The uninhabited side. My name is Carmen O'Donnell. I guess I shouldn't have teased you up there," she said, making a broad gesture toward the sky. "But I didn't think you were serious about the whole, 'Shoot you down,' thing. You're on board my ship, because I honestly have no idea how yours works. You got pretty banged up in the crash, but I was able to take care of it with medical supplies I had on hand."

She paused. Marcus simply continued to stare at her, drinking in her words. She noticed the dumbfounded look on his face and cocked her eyebrow before continuing. "I already called for some help. They'll be here as soon as this blizzard passes over." Marcus nodded, mouth agape. Carmen giggled at the fox's oafish behavior. "So…" she teased. "How beautiful am I?"

Marcus blushed, the crimson hue of his cheeks poking through his white facial fur. He immediately looked down at his hands. After a couple of seconds, he lifted his head again to look Carmen in the eyes, his cheeks still scarlet. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." Carmen grinned back at him mischievously.

"You ain't so bad yourself, pretty-boy," she replied. Marcus scoffed, and Carmen's grin vanished.

"Pretty is one thing I'm not," muttered Marcus. His hand moved toward his prosthetic eye. "I'm disgusting."

* * *

_Author's Note:_

I know how it looks right now, but believe me when I say that this won't be as sappy as my last story. Give it a little time, I'm still a tad rusty. It'll get better, I swear.

-**_][_**


End file.
